Sensitivity Class
by Shinigami29
Summary: Mild Pastry Train. Sexual Harassment. Suggested Childhood Abuse. An incident in the mess hall triggers Franklin D. Donut into a mild depression, which is easily cured by Caboose.


Disclaimer: I do not own Red VS Blue or any of it's characters.

**Sensitivity Class**

He had been in line at the mess hall behind Katie Jensen and Emily Grey when it happened: Lieutenant Charles Palomo walked by, winked at the two ladies while Franklin slipped into a daydream, then smacked Jensen's ass as a goodbye. Jensen squeaked, Grey glared, and Palomo laughed his way out of the mess hall unscathed. The line was moving again before Franklin fully comprehended what had happened.

"I could disembowel him for you," Grey said over her shoulder; she was in the lead, her short black hair carefully clipped up and her manic smile still in place.

Jensen was beat red. She pushed her glasses higher on her nose, played with the end of her braid, refused to meet Grey's eyes. "Don't do that. He's a good soldier."

"If you ask me," Franklin said. Jensen looked up at him, surprised, but then the line moved again and she scrambled to keep up. "A good soldier doesn't need to act like that. Ungentlemanlike. Why would anyone treat a lady that way?"

Grey giggled. Jensen cleared her throat before responding. "He's just like that sometimes, Captain Donut-"

"Oh, I'm still a Private." The three of them reached the first food station: Jensen piled her plate full of mashed potatoes, while Grey and Franklin both saved a sizeable portion of their plates for salad. "Sarge said I had to earn the promotion, like Simmons did." Jensen blushed again, but this time Franklin was pretty sure it wasn't because of Palomo.

"Priate Donut," she corrected.

"Oh, you can just call me Franklin!" He followed the two ladies to a table and sat across from them. "Someone really should talk to Palomo about his rude behavior. Would you like me to? He'd probably get it better, you know, coming from another guy."

Grey giggled again. "Thank you," Jensen smiled. "But that's alright. He's a jerk sometimes, but Palomo is a good soldier."

"That's no excuse!" Franklin insisted. He scratched his head as he thought, but it didn't take long for the idea to hit him. "We could do a sensitivity class! It was so much fun doing one with Griff and Simmons!"

"Sensitivity class?" Grey perked up. "With Captains Griff and Simmons?"

"Yeah, it was great!" He bounced at the memory. "We lit candles and talked about our feelings and baked cookies! And then Sarge gave us a super emotional pep talk."

"Really?" Grey produced a notebook from somewhere and opened it to a particular page. A glance told Franklin it was one of the pages that the doctor had reserved for her psychological analysis of him and his teammates. "What sort of things did they share with you?"

Thinking back on it, nothing. Simmons had deserted them to polish the Warthog, Sarge had spouted off something about Lopez, and Griff had only stuck around for the cookies. "Can't say! Those were private classes!" He winked at her, hoping to appear cool and casual.

Jensen raised a brow at him. "It just seems weird when you act flirty with me."

"Flirty?" His voice rose half an octave. "I'm sorry Jensen!" His mind flashed in panic "I didn't mean to give the wrong idea or anything! I only think of you as a friend." He smiled brightly and stood up from the table. "Gee, see how easy sharing is? Now that that's all cleared up, I can go talk to Kimball about those sensitivity classes!"

He all but ran away. Jensen stared after him a moment, then looked up at Grey. "Did he just apologize for being gay?"

"No Sweetie," Grey shook her head. "He would have to be aware of it to apologize. He was just lying to himself."

* * *

"We could invite everyone!" Franklin said as he climbed the stairs towards Kimball's office. Someone gave him a weird look, and everyone seemed to be giving him a wide birth. Franklin tried to ignore the feeling of being kicked in the gut as he snapped his helmet back on and muted his radio. "Palomo, of course, and the other lieutenants! And maybe Griff will come if I bake more cookies!"

It was a long climb to Kimball's office, and when Franklin pushed opened the stairwell door he saw a familiar Blue soldier already waiting outside the rebel leader's door. "Oh hey Caboose!" Caboose didn't look up. He was staring intently at the door, and didn't notice as Franklin walked right up next to him. "How are you?" Still no response. Franklin waved his hand in front of Caboose's helmet.

"Oh my g-" the blue soldier jumped away from Franklin and raised his rifle to the ready before noticing who it was. "Oh, hey Donut! You shouldn't go around scaring people like that."

"Sorry Caboose. Are you here to see Kimball too?"

The Blue lowered his rifle. "Why aren't you talking?" Caboose tilted his head, his visor catching the fading light through the window.

Franklin pulled off his helmet. "I forgot I muted my radio."

Caboose copied him and pulled his helmet off as well. "Why would you do that?" Franklin wasn't sure he had ever seen the blue with his helmet off before: Caboose's blue eyes shone with curiosity, his dark curly hair fell around his eyes, and his skin was paler than the Iowan man's. Franklin must have stared for a moment too long, because the blue soldier frowned in concern. "Donut? Did you mute your ears too?"

"I think out loud a lot," Franklin rushed to explain. "And sometimes, so that I don't bother other's, I turn off my radio. That way I can talk as much as I want and no one can hear me!"

"That's smart!" Caboose's smile was too wide for his face, and it made something twitch in Franklin's chest. It was an all-too-familiar twitch, and he couldn't help but bring up a box in his mind and tuck the image of Caboose's smile deep away with the rest of his repressed memories. "But what if you say something super useful and no one else catches it?"

That never seemed to be the case. "I just remember it, to tell people later!"

"That seems kind of inconvenient," the blue tucked his helmet under an arm, freeing his left hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Normally I just keep talking, and sometimes I say something pretty awesome. Well, most of the time, but only sometimes people understand. Like 20% of the time people understand. Except Tucker. Tucker is stupid."

Franklin couldn't help but laugh. Then the door opened, and he turned to see Vanessa Kimball looking back at him: she had blond hair, like his, but her eyes were green. Wash and Carolina were behind her, and so was the small holo-projection of-

"Church!" Caboose jumped in excitement; Franklin thought it was cute. Then he tucked those thoughts away. "It's FOOD TIME. You said you'd eat with me."

Church disappeared, then reappeared in front of Caboose. "Have you been waiting here all morning?"

"Yes."

"You were supposed to be training!"

"But you said you'd eat with me!"

"Caboose…"

"He's free now Caboose," Carolina said. She was smiling, her red lips painted the same shade as her hair. It make Franklin jealous; he couldn't pull off that shade without people thinking he was g-

He stopped his train of thought, pushing it into that same little box as Caboose's smile.

"Does that mean we can go eat now?" Caboose was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"As long as you go train afterwards."

"Do I get to go through one of Washintub's obstacle courses?"

"No," Wash was quick to jump in. "No need, Caboose. I still haven't rebuilt it from last time. You can join me and the Lieutenants for target practice."

"Lets go!" Caboose clipped his helmet back on; with a sigh Church moved into the blue soldier's armour, and the two raced past Donut and down the hall. Leaving Franklin alone with Wash, Carolina, and Kimball.

Agent Carolina looked at him pointedly, her smile gone. "And what are you doing here, Private?"

It was easy for him to act happy in front of them. Ignoring the reactions of other people was second nature. "Well," he balanced his helmet between an elbow and a hip. "It all started in the mess hall. I was in line with Lieutenant Jensen and Doctor Grey when Palomo… well, it's a little embarrassing to say out loud…"

"Most of what you say is embarrassing," Wash rolled his eyes, crossed his arms in front of his chest, trapped a foot in impatience.

"He _spanked_ her." He felt his cheeks heat up, accompanied by a guilty envy. Franklin coughed, cleared the thought out of his mind, tried to pick up his smile. "She was _devastated, _and we started talking, and we all agreed it would be a good idea to have a Sensitivity Class to teach the boys the _right _way to treat a lady!" He looked to Kimball. "Doesn't that sound great?"

"Sensitivity Class?" Kimball raised one brow, looked back at Wash and Carolina.

"He means a Sexual Harassment Seminar," Wash told her. "And he isn't wrong… but I'm not sure that we have the resources. We need to spend time training our men to fight."

"And women," Franklin corrected.

"And women," Wash nodded, then looked back to Kimball. "I'll talk to Palomo. Make them all run laps."

"Wait," Franklin frowned. "You're going to punish all of them for what Palomo did?"

"Punishing the whole team puts social pressure on Palomo," Wash explained without looking at him. "His peers will sort him out."

"Okay. But Jensen was harassed, it's wrong to punish her too."

"I can't just _not_ treat her the same as the rest of the men. There is no difference between a male and female soldier."

Franklin knew Wash was right; but he also knew Wash was wrong. "But something _bad_ happened to her; you shouldn't punish her for Palomo attacking her."

"Attack?" Carolina asked. "Was it an attack?"

"I… well…" he hesitated, suddenly unsure.

"What did Jensen say?" Kimball asked.

"... that Palomo is a good soldier," Franklin responded. "But she also said-"

"I don't think you're wrong," Kimball interrupted. "But Agent Washington is right; we just don't have the resources right now. We're about to fight a _war_, Private Donut. We can expect gunfire any and every hour of the day."

A little piece of his soul crushed. "Hey," Wash was looking at him now. "We're not trying to be unfair, just practical. I'll talk to Palomo and get this sorted out, one on one. Don't worry about it."

He could feel salt stinging at the corners of his eyes and resisted the urge to wipe the tears away. "Of course, Sir," he brought his heels together, squared his shoulders, saluted. "I'll see you at training, Sir."

"Actually Donut," there was an awkwardness on the ex-freelancer's face, and Franklin knew what was going to happen. "I'd like you to keep training with Sarge; he's known you longer and-"

"I understand, Sir." And he did. It was always the same; no one really wanted him around. "May I be relieved?"

Wash rolled his eyes again, sighed. "Yes Donut." Franklin turned on his heel and left the same way he had come up. He didn't get to see Wash turn to the two women still standing with him and ask "I was being fair, right?"

"Fair, yes," Carolina agreed. "But I still kind of want to punch out Palomo. Does that mean I need to go to this Sensitivity Class, too?"

"Probably. Yes."

* * *

Franklin found himself at the perimeter, and relieved the guard on duty with a lame excuse about superior orders. He knew that Sarge wouldn't be looking for him; that was most likely a half-baked excuse that Wash said just to get rid of him. Simmons would be in the armory, and he could probably find Griff back in the mess hall, but he didn't feel like seeing either of his two teammates. Instead he picked a tree fifty yards out and threw rocks at it. He hit the trunk again and again with an easy lob, letting his mind drift away with the repetitive motions.

He wouldn't let himself cry about this, but neither could he just pick up this little problem with Jensen put it in that little repressed box in his head and be done with it. She deserved better than that. Instead he threw another rock, then another, then another, until he had to start travelling more than a meter to get more rocks to throw.

He knew Wash had been right. They were in a war, and not like the play-war that his team had been in with the Blues. There wasn't time to bake cookies and light candles and talk Griff's ear off about how it isn't nice to call other people names and how everyone should always be careful to be considerate. There would be time for that later, another day, after the whole mess was cleaned up.

But when would that be?

The sun slunk down behind the horizon and Franklin turned on his night vision and kept throwing rocks with the same accuracy. He knew Wash was wrong. No matter how "innocent" or "playful" Palomo had been, regardless of how good of a soldier he was, he had no right to treat Jensen as anything but another human being. Not like an object.

Franklin knew what it was to be an object. Back on the farm he was told again and again to keep quiet, to mind the crops, to keep his head out of the clouds and his hand out of his pants. His parents had wanted him to have a nice Catholic wedding to Jesse Jamses, the neighbours' daughter, inherit the farm and continue the family legacy. He could remember one day, when they were both 10, Jesse decided that they would play dress up. When his parents came to pick him up that night, Franklin was gussied up in one of Jesse's old dresses with little pink shorts on underneath. They had snuck into Jesse's mother's room and both drawn messy lines of lipstick across each other's faces, and pulled each other's hair into lopsided pigtails.

The only thing he could remember of the following night was his father saying over and over again "pink is for girls"; everything else was safely locked away in that little box in his head.

"Donut?" Franklin jumped, fumbled the rock he had been preparing to throw, and turned around to see a familiar Blue soldier walking up to him. "Are your ears turned off again?"

"Caboose!" He choked on a laugh, unwanted tears slipping out of his eyes. Franklin had never been happier to be wearing a helmet. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you!" Caboose walked right up to him, stopping just a little too close. Franklin shifted back half a step. "We were all at dinner when Sarge said 'Simmons! Where's Donut?'" Caboose used his pirate accent to mimic Sarge, causing Franklin to chuckle. "Then Simmons said 'I don't know Sarge, maybe Griff knows?' Then Wash said 'I sent him to you for training.' And Sarge said-"

"I get the picture," Franklin giggled and waved for Caboose to stop. He couldn't help but feel light hearted around the cheerful Blue.

"But that's not the best part!" Caboose whined.

"I've been keeping an eye on the base," Franklin used his thumb to point at his chest, a classic manly good-guy pose that was sure to impress anyone.

"Well stop that and come on," Caboose grabbed Franklin's wrist and pulled him back towards the base.

"Wait Caboose! We can't just leave the base unguarded!"

"Oh yeah," the blue stopped for a moment, then raised a hand to activate his helmet radio. "Hellooo? Smith? Are you there?" Caboose's voice dropped an octave. "This is your Captain speaking. You need to guard the base now, I am taking Donut to his surprise."

"Surprise?" He could feel his cheeks heat up for the second time that day.

"Shh!" Caboose turned to look at him, raising one finger in front of his visor as if to shush Franklin. "You're not supposed to know!" Then he turned away again, raised his hand back to his radio. "Yes Smith. We are going now, so make sure you guard the base soon!" Then he was holding Franklin's hand again and dragging him back inside.

It didn't take long for Franklin to realize he was being pulled in the direction of the mess hall. "Caboose, wait." He tried to take his wrist back, but Caboose just held him tighter. "What's going on?"

"I was _trying_ to tell you." He could hear the other man sigh, but it wasn't in that same tired way that Franklin was used to hearing. Caboose sounded excited, if a little exasperated. Franklin wasn't sure if he was allowed to use 5 syllable words to describe Caboose. "We were all at dinner when Sarge said 'Simmons! Where's Donut?' Then Simmons said 'I don't know Sarge, maybe Griff knows?' Then Wash said-"

"But what's _going on_?"

Caboose continued as if not interrupted. "'I sent him to you for training.' And Sarge said 'I ain't seen him all day! Griff, where's Donut?' But before Griff could say anything Carolina said 'He was asking Kimball about Sensitivity Classes', and then Griff said 'Will there be cookies?'"

Franklin laughed.

"And _Simmons said_-"

"Oh shut up Caboose!" Church's hologram appeared in front of both of them. "He doesn't need _every single fucking detail_. Just tell him what it's all about."

"That what I _am_ doing Church!"

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am!"

"Well it doesn't fucking matter anymore. We're here."

Caboose stopped short just outside the mess hall, Franklin barely stopping in time to not run into him. "So we are," the Blue soldier let go of him to push open the double doors, then ran inside ahead of Franklin.

Franklin could see that the tables had all been rearranged into a semicircle around a couple of crates that Caboose jumped onto. A couple dozen people were sitting at the tables, all of them pausing their conversations and looking as Franklin walked into the room. He felt awkward. Then someone waved for his attention, Jensen, and he moved with faux-confidence to the table at the back. Jensen was sitting with Simmons and Bitters, and Franklin could see Palomo lying on the floor beneath the table.

"What happened to him?" He asked, taking the seat next to Jensen.

"Agent Washington is what," it was Griff who responded. He was sitting with Tucker at the table in front of them. "You should have seen it; as soon as Palomo got on the field Wash had him running laps. And if he ran too slow he started shooting."

"Shooting?" He looked beneath the table curiously. "You okay Palomo?"

"Fine."

He sat up and looked at Jensen, who was smiling brightly at him. "What happened?" Franklin asked.

"Seems like someone told Agent Washington about how _rude _Palomo was being earlier today," she said.

Franklin smiled behind his visor, feeling tears pushing at his eyes once again. Only for a different reason this time. "And this?" He gestured to where Caboose was standing in front of everyone. Kimball, Wash, Carolina, and even Sarge were all standing behind the eccentric Blue.

Caboose had started talking. "Welcome Everyone!" He yelled into the mic of his helmet. Half the room cringed.

"Caboose!" Church appeared in front of him again. "How many times do I have to say that you don't have to yell when the megaphone is on!?"

"Oh. Oops, sorry." Caboose coughed, Church disappeared, and he started again. "Welcome everyone! We are gathered here today so that you can all learn how to be more Sensitive!"

"Stop," Carolina pushed Caboose off of the crates and took the stand for herself. Instead of taking a place next to Wash, Caboose moved to sit beside Tucker - directly in front of Franklin. "It's come to our attention that some of you guys out there, and yes I mean you men, are being pigs. I'm here to let you know that if you don't stop I'll rip your-"

"What she means," Wash hastily took over, stepping in front of Carolina - he wouldn't dare try to remove her from her claimed spot. "Is that we would like to address the issue openly, right now."

Franklin watched as Caboose removed his helmet and turned around in his chair. "Psssht, Donut!" He had his hands cupped around his too-wide smile, as if it would help keep his voice hidden. "Do you like your surprise?"

Wash kept talking about what would hereby be considered proper conduct, with the aid of the occasional threat from Carolina, but Franklin's focus was on Caboose. "Did you do this?"

"It was all of us," he nodded. "But mostly me. Not Tucker though."

"Dude, this class sucks," Griff sighed, leaning back in his chair to join the conversation. "At least you gave us cookies."

"You guys got cookies?" Tucker asked. He looked over Griff's head at Franklin. "How come you never made us cookies?"

"You were on the Blue Team," Franklin said pointedly. Griff and Simmons both snickered.

Caboose smiled. "After Griff asked if there would be cookies Wash said-"

"Commander Washington and I," Jensen stepped in. "Told everyone what had happened. Then Colonel Sarge got mad at Palomo, and Captain Griff told Commander Washington that he was wrong and-"

"Excuse me? I told him to eat a sack of dicks." Griff raised a hand to fist bump Tucker automatically, looking back at Franklin over his shoulder. "I thought you'd like that."

"Bow chika bow wow.

"Not like-like that, I mean- Fuck." He groaned, hit his head on the table. "Why does that keep happening?"

"You talked back to Wash?" Franklin felt his voice hitch.

"Well, yeah." Griff shrugged. "I mean, I talk back to everyone. It just so happened that he was also being a dick. It worked out rather nicely."

"And then!" Caboose jumped back into the narration - by this point Franklin started to notice that people weren't paying attention to Wash anymore, and listening in on their conversation instead. "Sarge said 'Where is this red neck Palomo? I'll teach him a lesson in sensitivity!' And Wash said 'I already had him run 500 laps.' And Sarge kind of grunted and nodded in approval, like this," Caboose straightened up, grunted, nodded seriously, then broke back out in a grin. "And then _I said _'Well if you think what Palomo did was wrong, doesn't that mean that Donut was right?' And Tucker said 'I am stupid'."

"I did not say that!" Tucker yelled. The whole room ringed in silence.

"Captain Tucker." Wash was staring right at them. Tucker faced him with a sigh. "What was so important that you have to interrupt this Seminar?"

"Dude, you should have let Donut run this," Tucker complained loudly. "He makes people cookies. Where are my cookies?"

Franklin laughed along with most of the room. "Alright, alright, that's enough," Wash said. "This is considered your warning. If anyone, and that includes you Captain Tucker-"

"And you Lieutenant Palomo," Carolina added.

"If anyone causes problems for their fellow soldiers, be it physical or verbal-"

"Or sexual," Carolina added.

"Or sexual," Wash nodded. "Not only will we make you run laps until you look like Palomo back there," he pointed to where Palomo was still lying on the floor. "But afterwards you'll have to spar one on one with Agent Carolina."

"So please," Carolina spread her arms wide, "make my day and fuck up."

"We're all soldiers here," Wash said. "Man or woman, it doesn't matter. We all have to be willing to put our lives on the line for each other, or else none of us will survive." He paused for a moment, then dismissed everyone from the mess hall.

It took a few minutes for most of the room to empty, but the familiar group of Red and Blues stayed behind. They were all quiet, even Caboose, while Wash and Carolina slowly made their way to their table.

"Nice speech Sir!" Franklin complimented. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but thank you for reconsidering!"

"Your welcome Donut," Wash nodded. "And I would like to say I'm sorry."

He blinked behind his visor, his vision already blurry. "Why would you need to say that?" His voice squeaked at the end.

"Because this wasn't just for Jensen," Wash said cryptically. Then walked away; Carolina paused to squeeze Franklin's shoulder before following.

Simmons coughed, breaking the tension. "Well it's just about time for lights out. Who's on watch?"

"I sent Smith!"

"Good," Simmons nodded, then looked at Jensen. "Time for bed, Rookie."

"Bow chika bow wow."

"What? No! I didn't mean it like that!"

Jensen was bright red and Tucker was grinning maniacally. "Dude, be careful what you say or else it's one on one with Carolina. You thought Tex was bad…"

"Shut up Tucker!"

Franklin grinned and laughed with everyone else; But Caboose was still staring at him, begging for attention that Franklin couldn't help but give. "Did you like your surprise?"

He smiled back. "Yeah. Thank you Caboose."

The Blue soldier leaned forwards, one hand cupped as if to whisper in Franklin's ear. "You can call me Michael."


End file.
